


If You're Horny...

by BlaiseKillmonger



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Erik's a popular stripper, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Model!T'Challa, Romance, Stripper!Erik, Strippers & Strip Clubs, T'Challa's a famous model
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiseKillmonger/pseuds/BlaiseKillmonger
Summary: Based off a Tumblr post (from kolyafarrell) and a request where Erik gives T'Challa a lap dance - "T'cherik AU with T'Challa as a famous model and Erik as his biggest fan".T'Challa is a famous model who goes to a club to unwind. He finds a stripper called Erik and what happens after is breathtaking.





	If You're Horny...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'kolyafarrell" 's au where T'Challa is a famous model & Erik is his biggest fan and a prompt request where Erik gives T'Challa a lap dance. The prominent song in this is 'My Pony', a remix of 'Pony'.

T'Challa stumbled into a nightclub, but it was divergent to the usual clubs he had previously been in. The lights danced in circles and various members of the club were highlighted by the bright rings spinning. After a day of photo shoots, he just wanted to unwind and asked for somewhere to go and this was it. His executive, Nakia, told him the club was popular and her friend went there all the time. T'Challa found the information to be irrelevant until she mentioned he was a big fan of his work. Almost eleven in the night, he noticed the club wasn't a traditional nightclub after looking around and seeing silver poles isolated in different parts of the building. Music was playing and he couldn't recognize it until the hook started playing. 

**_'I promise that you won't want to get off'_ **  

T'Challa's jaw dropped as a sign of shock when he saw a man younger than him, on a stage in front of everybody. His first thought was  ** _'_** _why is this boy almost naked'_ and glanced at this bronze dancer in front of him. Only clad in tight gold shorts resembling boxer-briefs, he was moving to the music and reflected in T'Challa's eyes. His dreads weren't long but they moved as his body did.  

**_'If you're horny, let's do it'_ **  

The dancer pushed his hands down his torso, even breathing seductively and T'Challa approached the stage to watch closer. He noticed T'Challa's presence draw in closer and once T'Challa was in front it looked like he was putting on a show. 

**_'Ride it, my pony'_ **  

With a lapse of time slowed down, T'Challa's eyes drew down at a slow pace, smiling at what he saw and the dancer grinned back with confidence in his eyes, fire across his face. Jumping off the stage, he danced towards T'Challa and held him by the shoulders, like an erotic high school prom dance. The hairs on his body stood their ground, erecting like a cornfield. The dancer held the back of T'Challa's head and locked lips as both men tilted their heads. He pulled away with a gasping smile and T'Challa felt hypnotized. Like it wasn't just a ploy for money, but personal. 

"I'm Erik," he grinned. He looked victorious like he achieved something and looked into T'Challa's eyes which created a reflective pool of near-black, coffee brown eyes. T'Challa spoke eagerness with his face and bit his lip. 

"I'm T'Challa. You seem happy to see me." 

Erik laughed with embarrassment as if he was caught with his pants down. Outside the club. 

"I'm a huge fan of your work...you look good in leather pants you know. They... _show things off_." 

T'Challa's cheeks warmed and he felt himself blushing.  

"You are too kind. Maybe I can...show you some kindness myself?" 

Erik smiled and kissed him again. 

"That's my job baby," he smiled. "Follow me." 

*****

Erik took him into a private room and T'Challa studied it. Velvet couches, brown oak walls, and the door had soundproof padding on it. The quality astounded him. Erik sat him down and put the same remixed edition of the song they'd just heard on, circling around in front of T'Challa. The model's heart began to race as the stripper climbed on him and removed his black blazer, leaving him with only a black suit shirt as a border between skin and touch. Both men knew silence would make the experience so much better, so the only noise was T'Challa's halted breathing.  

**_'My saddle's waiting'_ **  

T'Challa felt something grow as Erik's lips caressed his neck and heat flushed through his body. The sensation rendered his eyes useless and he welcomed Erik's affection by moaning silently, breathing into Erik's shoulder. 

**_'Come and jump on it'_ **  

Erik stood up slowly with T'Challa's hands breaking off his back, his body language seemed disappointed. The exotic dancer grabbed both thighs and rubbed, going high enough to feel T'Challa's reaction. T'Challa unbuttoned his shirt from the top and stopped halfway, baring his chest which was rich with sweat. His legs were pushed apart by Erik and watching his dancer do so really turned him on. His crotch was seated by Erik who moved up and down like a tidal wave, his body going forward then back in a constant motion. T'Challa held him with his hands on his chest and it felt  _so_ good. Erik's warm skin cushioned beneath his palms, Erik himself riding him like he was a car seat.  

_Fuck yes,_ T'Challa thought. Erik swiveled around and straddled him. 

"I'd say you're hotter in real life but that'd be BS. You're just fucking hot," he groaned, showering T'Challa's chest with love bites. The strong kisses became sucking and T'Challa's eyes rolled up, begging to be released from the pressure. His entire body was tingling and throbbing with pleasure but it all ended once his phone rang, just hearable under the music playing.  

"Excuse me." 

T'Challa was visibly annoyed, huffing but Erik made it up with silent kisses to his neck as he answered the phone. The conversation steered and the concluding sentence told Erik he had to go.  

"You gotta bounce?" He pouted. 

"I'm afraid so. But I will be back. Here, take this." 

Erik got off him and T'Challa wrote his number on a twenty dollar note with a pen he carried for autographs. He wedged it in the waistband of Erik's shorts and winked before heading for the door with Erik. 

"Goodbye, Erik." 

He kissed him on the cheek and left Erik alone in the room. With one hand, he brushed his dreads to one side in an attempt to neaten his hair. Looking at the number, he grinned.  

"They say you should never meet your hero. Didn't say shit about giving them a lap dance." Erik chuckled. 


End file.
